As Long As You're Mine
by Script
Summary: R for sex and language. A One-shot song fic between Spot and my girl Fighter, after she requested a song fic to cheer her up. Please R&R.


Disclaimers: Don't own newsies. Duh. And don't own this song, either. It's from the new Broadway musical Wicked based on the book of the same name (which you all need to read) and I highly suggest you check out the soundtrack which is flippin' amazing! Anyhoo, carrying on…  
  
_As Long As You're Mine by: Aella Eris/Script_

**Kiss me too fiercely**

**Hold me too tight**

**I need help believing**

**You're with me tonight**

**My wildest dreamings**

**Could not foresee**

**Lying beside you**

**With you wanting me**

Right. Like she was _actually_ going to believe that it was _actually_ happening to her. No. No way. Absolutely no fucking way…

The fact that he went back to kissing her made Fighter's eyes go wide, her shoulders stiffen.

_Ok. So maybe this _is _happening to me…_

It's not like she hadn't wanted it. She did. Maybe. She hadn't really known. She'd never really thought about it before. Yeah, they were cool with each other, but they spent ten times more of their efforts quarrelling and griping about each other then…flirting. 

Fighter shivered at the thought. Or maybe she just shivered because Spot had moved his hand up the hem of her blouse. How'd they get here? How'd they get to this point?

_"Hey, Fightah."  
"__Hey, Conlon, what're you doing in 'Hattan?" She hadn't felt well enough to go selling so Fighter had opted to stay home, which was probably her first mistake. Her second mistake was not making him leave. She should have known, really; she should have seen it coming. He was…_different _that day._

_He wasn't scowling._

_"So, uh, yeah, Jackey-boy told me you'se wa'n't feelin' well." Since when did he care?  
"Naw, I'm a'ight. Just tired I guess. I felt gross this mornin' so didn't feel like sellin'."_

_"Oh." An awkward silence followed. Why was he there, anyway?_

_"So, why are you in __Manhattan__, Spot?" She frowned at him, hands folded over her chest as she shifted her weight to rest on one hip. That's when she finally noticed. He was…looking at her. Like he'd suddenly seen her for the first time. It was…creepy – but not an all together bad feeling, she found herself thinking. Which made her very uncomfortable, to say the least. It was Spot. Spot Conlon – self-absorbed, arrogant bastard from __Brooklyn__. Cocky as all hell and – her eyes shifted downwards on impulse. Damn it, why'd she have to think of_ that_?_

_Fighter was suddenly very aware of just how…_male _Spot was – and how close he_ _was to her. She blushed without realizing she was doing it._

_"Fightah?"__ His voice made her jump – she answered too quickly._

_"Uh, yeah, Conlon?"___

_"Do you hate me?"_

_Ok. So she wasn't expecting that. Sure they argued and teased each other mercilessly, but they certainly didn't_ hate _each other. Right?_

_"No. Why?"_

_"I just wanted to make sure, ya know?" She didn't._

_"Oh." He raked a hand through his hair and shifted on his feet._

_"Hey, Fightah."___

_"Yeah?"___

_"C'mere." She blinked at him._

_"What?" He sighed._

_"Jist...c'mere, ok?"___

_"Why?" She frowned as her legs brought her the two steps closer to him needed to bring them toe-to-toe with each other – all without her permission, of course. He smirked at her._

_"You gonna keep askin' stupid questions?"_

_"Maybe.__ What do you want?"_

_That's when Spot kissed her. It was a bit clumsy on his part and Fighter was too stunned to do anything about it. He took it as a sign to continue._

_Mistake Number Three._

_He slid his calloused hands into her long honey-blonde hair. It was thick. He loved it._

_So did she._

Oh. That's how they got there.

**Just for this moment**

**As long as you're mine**

**I've lost all resistance**

**And crossed some borderline**

**And if it turns out**

**It's over too fast**

**I'll make every last moment last**

**As long as you're mine…**

Fighter tried to rationalize it at first. Blame it on raging teenage hormones. On the tedium of newsie life. On the price of tea in China. She started to mentally list the top 101 reasons why this would end up being the stupidest thing she'd ever done, but then his tongue had touched the bow of her lip and she opened her mouth in surprise and Spot decided to invade and her brain went on strike.

He tasted like cigarettes and peppermint.

_Fuck it_.

She'd slung her arms around his neck, pulling herself on her toes to kiss him; her fingers tugging on his hair, his hands pulling at her shirt.

_He tasted so fucking good…_

**Maybe I'm brainless**

**Maybe I'm wise**

**But you've got me seeing**

**Through different eyes**

**Somehow I've fallen**

**Under your spell**

**And somehow I'm feeling**

**It's "up" that I fell…**

Spot didn't know what had prompted him to come to Manhattan. Or what provoked him to kiss her. But he had. And she'd let him. And all of his blood was rushing straight to his groin.

She started to pull away. Didn't she know what she did to him? He pulled her back to him, held her tightly. She let out a whimper and his eyes shot open to look at her. He loosened his grip as he brought his hands up to cup her face. Her eyes were dark.

She wanted him, too.

"You're beautiful, you know that…" She blushed and looked away. He pulled her back to him. "Naw, I mean it."

"Swear ta God, Conlon, you get sappy on me and I'm gonna beat the livin' shit outta you."

He adored her. He fucking loved everything about her.

**Every moment**

**As long as you're mine**

**I'll wake up my body**

**And make up for lost time…**

**Say there's no future**

**For us as a pair…******

**And though I may know**

**I don't care…**

It was a clashing of teeth and lips and tongues as they pulled each other to the nearest bunk. 

Race was going to kill them for this later.

It was too hot for clothes. Spot fumbled with her blouse buttons as Fighter tugged his shirt over his head. She stopped to look up at him as she lay back against the pillow.

He wasn't as scrawny has she had thought.

He smirked at her as he pushed her shirt from her shoulders, trailing his hand along her collar bone and down the valley between her breasts. She sucked in a breath, catching her bottom lip between her teeth as he leaned down to kiss where his hand left off. Fighter thought she might die when his tongue swirled across her bellybutton. She'd never been happier she was an inny.

Spot tugged her slacks down over her hips, pulling them off as he thanked every God there ever was for the fact that she had already been barefoot. He looked down at her, splaying a hand on her belly. Fighter looked up at him, chewing on her lip.

"I never done this before, Spot…" She looked nervous.

"We don't have to –"

"No! No…I want to." She sat up and kissed him, her tongue begging entrance into his mouth. He parted his lips, moaning when she slid her tongue against his and arched her hips up to press against his groin. He needed her.

Now.

He continued to kiss her as he fumbled with the fly of his pants. She chortled somewhere in the back of her throat, lifted her hands up to help him and allowed herself to linger as she pushed the offending article over his aching member. She tilted her head, looking down on it as she freed Spot from his confines. He blushed and tried to pull her head back up to kiss him.

"No. I wanna see. I've never…" Fighter trailed off and traced her index finger lightly along the length. Spot groaned and bit his lip, holding himself up with shaky arms. She flicked her eyes up to look at his face before looking back down on him and, closing her hand around the shaft, squeezed. Spot groaned.

"Fightah…Fi…stop…please…" Fighter pulled her hand away quickly.

"Did I hurt you? I'm sorry, I didn't mean –!"

"No, no, it ain't that…I jist…if you don' stop, I ain't gonna last." Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a little "o" shape before her face broke out into a grin. She leaned up and kissed him.

**Just for this moment**

**As long as you're mine**

**Come be how you want to**

**And see how bright we shine**

It was hot. So, so hot. Fighter felt like every pore on her body was spitting out fire and the furnace was centered at her core. Her muscles felt stretched, like she'd rip in half if he filled her anymore; but she'd never been so…whole. She arched her back, finding that if she moved against him just so…

Spot groaned, unable to process any coherent thoughts. His brain stopped functioning ages ago and his muscles were working on overdrive. He didn't want it to end but he felt the familiar coil deep inside his abdomen start to unfurl. He pushed into her.

Harder. Deeper. Faster. Wetter.

Fighter felt like she was going to implode in on herself as she raked her nails down his back. He kissed her; their tongues battled for dominance before he attached his mouth to her neck. And then she saw stars behind her eyelids and she yelled his name.

Spot slammed into her depths one last time before losing himself in her, shouting into the hollow of her throat.

**Borrow the moonlight**

**Until it is through**

**And know I'll be here holding you**

**As long as you're mine…**

They were sprawled on the bed, spent and panting. Fighter had her head rested on his chest; Spot's hands were playing with her hair. Fighter glanced at the clock on the wall and groaned.

"We gotta get up…" Spot kissed the top of her head and nodded.

"Yeah. We do." Neither of them moved. Fighter placed kisses along his torso.

"You know we can't tell anybody, right?"

"I know."

"So."

"So."

"I'll see you at Medda's on Saturday? For the poker game?"

"Yeah. I'll be dere." Fighter sat up and smiled at him. He smiled back.

And then he kissed her.

::End::


End file.
